


Want - Ian & Mickey

by floralsuitian



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Domestic Disputes, Fights, First Major Fight, Had to have them make up, M/M, one year anniversary, soft moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralsuitian/pseuds/floralsuitian
Summary: On their one-year anniversary, Ian and Mickey get into their first big fight since being married, causing both of them to question the situation, but ultimately find a middle ground.
Relationships: Gallavich - Relationship
Comments: 11
Kudos: 201





	Want - Ian & Mickey

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, friends. This is one of the longest one shots I've ever written lol and I wrote it when I was going through a really weird time. My mental health was shit, and this was only two days ago. I was in such a bad state that I wrote them fighting :( but they do make up hehe so there's that. I hope you enjoy this one; it's so long, but it was kind of fun to have them communicating in a way that we haven't really seen before. So I hope you enjoy this!! Leave comments, kudos, whatever you'd like : ) (also I listened to The Band CAMINO's entire discography when I was writing this hehe)

**_“Something good, something real, something bad, something I can really, really, really feel, leave me black, leave me blue, just give me something, I’ll take anything from you….”_ **

**_~’Something To Hold On To’, The Band CAMINO~_ **

They were fighting again. It wasn’t anything aggressive, or violent, or even anything to physically hurt either one of them.

But they were fighting. Again. Loudly. Debbie could hear them from downstairs as she set Franny’s dinner plate on the table for her. Ian is screaming at him, saying things like “it wasn’t like that!” and “he knows I’m married!”. And Debbie wants to stop it, wants to stomp up the stairs and shake them both and tell them to knock it the fuck off. To work it out calmly like adults. But she’s learned from prior arguments that she shouldn’t get involved. 

She hears Mickey next: “Fuck you, I can’t believe you’re really defending the fucking creep, Ian!”

Debbie sighs, rakes her fingers through Franny’s growing hair as she eats her ravioli and corn on her plate. Franny looks at her for a moment, smiles a little smile, which makes Debbie smile a bit. 

“Your uncles are fighting again”, she says softly. Franny nods; she may be six, but she’s not stupid. Or deaf for the matter. 

“They gonna go away?”, she asks her mother, and Debbie tries to hold her tears back. 

“No, honey. They’re….gonna be okay. They’re just going through things”. 

Franny takes a sip of her apple juice and looks up the stairs. Debbie does too; she hears stomping, then swearing, then more shouting. 

“Where the fuck are you going?”, Ian shouts, and when they both round the corner of the stairs, Ian’s breath hitches in his throat upon seeing Debbie and Franny seated at the table. Mickey sighs, grabs his coat from the hook, then yanks the back door open, disappearing behind it. He slams it so hard, Ian and Franny both jump. Debbie looks at Ian with a worried expression, and he answers her with “Debs….I….I didn’t know you were home”.

“S’alright”, she gets up to grab a beer from the fridge.

“Did you hear all of that?”, Ian’s voice is strained, like he’s been yelling for days. 

“Most of it. Not all”.

“I’m so fucking sorry”.

Ian comes the rest of the way down the stairs, and sits on the last step, running his hand down his face, then through his hair. 

“What happened, if you don’t mind….?” 

Ian lets out an exasperated sigh before answering her.

“Just….this guy at work. He’s been flirting with me, and I guess he stuffed his number in my jacket and I didn’t know…..Mickey found it….” 

Debbie nods, takes a sip of her beer. Ian picks at the skin on his fingers.

“So he freaked out?”

“He thinks I’m….cheating on him”.

“And you’re not”.

“No, of course I’m fucking not”.

Ian feels tears brimming the corners of his eyes as he continues picking at his fingers, sighs again, closes his eyes to keep the tears from falling.

“I love him, Debs”. 

“I know you do”, Debbie comes over to sit next to him on the stairs, lays her head on his shoulder.

“I fought so hard to get him back, after everything. And….and I’ve been taking my meds again, and….and he thinks….I’m fucking someone else. When I didn’t even know about the number….”

“You should tell him that”.

Ian sniffles as Debbie picks her head up from his shoulder, looking at him with a gentle smile. 

“Everything you just told me. Tell him that. How you feel. Then let him tell you how  _ he  _ feels. Find a middle ground, you know?”

“We’ve been married for a year now”, Ian chuckles gently, fiddling with his wedding ring. Debbie smiles a half smile this time, rubs Ian’s back gently. 

“A year today….”, he trails off this time. Debbie’s mouth sets into a line, and she sighs.

“Go find him. Talk to him. Explain that….this coworker came onto you, and you wanted nothing to do with him. That you only want him”.

Ian looks over to his sister, his eyes red and becoming puffy from crying somewhat moments before. 

“He loves you, Ian. You know that, right? He just….needs the reassurance. Like you do”.

Ian sniffles again, wipes his eyes with the heels of his hands. He turns to hug Debbie, pulling her into a gentle hug, burying his face in her neck. Debbie wraps her arms around Ian’s back, rubbing in circles against his shoulder blades. 

“I don’t wanna lose him again”, Ian whispers, still hugging Debbie. 

“You won’t. Just....go find him, talk to him”. 

Ian pulls away from Debbie, and she rubs her hands down his shoulders. He glances over at Franny, who’s still eating her dinner, and smiles at his niece.

“I’m sorry again. For….yelling and swearing….while she was awake”, Ian apologizes. Debbie chuckles, stands from her spot on the stairs to refill Franny’s apple juice cup. 

“Like she hasn’t heard worse”, she points out. Ian chuckles, musters up a small smile. He goes to stand from the stairs, and makes his way to the back door; Debbie watches him tentatively, as he opens the door, but then just stands there. 

“You know….he told me that he was tired of me always hurting him. Right before we came downstairs”, Ian tells her, his voice shaking slightly. Debbie blinks, looks down at the table. 

“I’m fucking tired of hurting him, Debs”.

“Ian, this was  _ not  _ your fault. And….Mickey’s gonna understand that. You need to talk to him”, she puts an emphasis on each of the words as she speaks them. Ian is still standing in the doorway, facing the backyard. He feels his heart racing, the way it feels when he feels himself crashing, and instant panic sets in.  _ No no no no no no, not now, fuck, not now…. _

“Ian? You alright?”

Debbie sounds far away, even though she’s only standing three feet away from him. His breathing feels strange, like he can’t exhale, and he steps outside, shutting the door, and leaning against the doorframe. Ian closes his eyes tighter, clenches and unclenches his jaw, and suddenly, he can’t take it anymore. He screams, as loud as he can, into the snow falling in the backyard.

“Fuck!” 

He slams his hands against the side of the staircase, and when he yells again, he hears a voice. An all too familiar one. 

“Ian?” 

He turns to see Mickey, sitting at the bottom of the stairs. He thought, in the last 30 minutes, we would’ve been halfway to Sandy’s to calm himself down. He thought that maybe he’d be at the Alibi shit talking with Kev.

Instead, he’s holding a cigarette and sitting at the bottom of the stairs. In this 20-degree weather. 

“Wha--I thought…..you left”, Ian wipes the tears from his cheeks, watches as Mickey blows a puff of smoke from his lips, then throws the cigarette down and puts it out with boot.

“Got to the end of the street, then turned around and came back”, Mickey begins walking slowly up the stairs, and Ian feels like breaking down into a full on sobbing fit. 

“Mick, I--”

“I know, I overreacted”, Mickey cuts him off, and when he makes it to the third step, he looks up at Ian, the porch light illuminating his face. Ian sucks in a small breath when he sees Mickey’s red cheeks and the way his eyes are bloodshot. 

“I’m so….I’m sorry. I--I would never--”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

“I--I’m trying to apologize--”

Mickey walks slowly up the last two steps, so he’s standing in the same spot as Ian, then gently cups his face in his hands, bringing his lips to his. Ian closes his eyes, feels how cold Mickey’s lips are against his own, then cups his face too, turning his body gently to press him into the door. Mickey’s left thumb runs over Ian’s cheekbone, kisses him harder. Ian runs his hands from his cheeks to his hips, gently squeezing the flesh through his jeans. Mickey gently rolls his hips against Ian’s, and he quickly pulls away. Ian shakes his head, presses his forehead against Mickey’s.

“The fuck?”, Mickey whispers. 

“I’m sorry. For screaming. For yelling at you. For not….knowing that he put the damn number in my pocket. I’m so fucking sorry, I….I love you….”

Ian’s voice breaks, Mickey lifts his head to press a kiss to Ian’s temple and he feels Ian’s body gently shake as he cries softly. 

“ _ I’m  _ sorry”, Mickey starts, “I overreacted…..and shouldn’t have fucking said that shit to you.  _ I  _ am sorry”.

Ian picks his head up, cupping Mickey’s cheek again, letting his thumb drag over his bottom lip.

“I love you”, Ian says again, almost inaudibly. Mickey smiles, pulls him in for another kiss. Ian sighs against his lips, trying to keep himself from crying.

“Tell me you love me”. 

Mickey doesn’t answer him, just keeps kissing him, then when Ian pulls away abruptly again, he leans his head back against the door. Ian stares at him, a look of hurt and offense covering his face. 

“Mick….”

“I love you, alright?”, he finally says, but Ian steps away from him, backing up against the railing of the stairs. 

“Tell me you love me….like you mean it”, he cries; by this time, it’s almost full on sobs, and Mickey’s looking at him with that look.  _ That  _ look. The one he hates, and knows too well. 

“Ian--”

“No. No, don’t you fucking dare. Don’t….you don’t get to fucking do that to me--”

“Do what, Ian?! Be hurt? What the fuck? We’re  _ married,  _ and I found another guy’s number in your work pants--”

“I’m. Not. Fucking. Cheating. On. You. You’re such a fucking asshole”, Ian scoffs, and begins to walk down the stairs. 

“Don’t you fucking walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”, Mickey yells, following Ian down the stairs. He grabs Ian by the back of the arm, but Ian yanks his arm away from him, and he turns to face him.

“Don’t fucking touch me”, he grits out, stuffing his hands in his pockets and walking to the sidewalk. He laughs sarcastically, shaking his head, turns to face the street. 

“What the fuck is funny about this?”, Mickey raises his eyebrows, keeps his distance from Ian for the time being. 

“You actually think that I’m cheating on you after all this time--”

“Wouldn’t be the first time”.

As soon as the words leave Mickey’s mouth, he instantly regrets them. He feels like an idiot, fighting with Ian on the sidewalk while it’s fucking freezing out, and continuing to overreact over something that wasn’t even Ian’s fault. 

“I--I didn’t mean that…..”, Mickey whispers, but Ian doesn’t turn to face him.

“You know….today’s our 1-year anniversary”, Ian talks to the street more than to Mickey, and now Mickey really wants to throw himself into that same street. 

“Ian…. _ fuck,  _ I’m--”

“And you really think I’m gonna leave you again”. 

“Ian, I’m fucking sorry….will you please look at me?”

Ian sniffles, looks up at the dark sky, but doesn’t look at Mickey for some time. 

“Give me a reason”, Ian says, still facing the sky. Mickey furrows his eyebrows, staring at his husband’s back.

“The fuck are you talking about?”

“Give me a reason to look at you”. 

“Ian--”

“Tell me that you love me. The way you always say it. Not in that….fucking forced tone cause you’re pissed off”. 

Mickey sighs, rubs his hands over his face. He can’t even really feel his hands that much anymore, nor his face, but that’s okay, he supposes. Anything to be near Ian even if he’s pissed off at him. 

“I love you….Ian”, he whispers, the snow almost causing him to go unheard. Ian feels his breath hitch in his throat, and he lets out a shuddered breath before slowly turning to face Mickey for the first time in what feels like hours. 

Mickey’s lips are starting to turn blue, and Ian wants to take it away. Wants to kiss him until the color comes back in his cheeks, wants to hear that sound he makes when Ian takes his bottom lip between his top one. Wants to love him and take care of him. Because they made that promise to one another, a whole year ago. 

He walks closer to him, keeping his eyes on him, and Mickey feels his heart begin to race. As it always does when Ian’s around. 

“I love you”, Mickey repeats, his voice breaking slightly, and Ian can’t take it anymore. He cups his face in that desperate manner they know too well, and Mickey feels his heart momentarily explode when Ian covers his mouth with his own. He doesn’t move their lips, just presses them together, Ian’s thumbs stroking his cheeks gently, the snow falling quietly around them as they stand on the sidewalk.

Mickey can feel Ian’s tears falling against his cheeks, and he cups the back of his head, rubbing the nape of his neck to calm him down. 

“Let’s go inside, please”, Mickey whispers, their lips still pressed to each other. Ian nods, sniffles again. Mickey pecks his lips one last time, before reaching down to grab his hand, and tug him towards the back door again. They hurriedly make it up the stairs, and Mickey opens the back door to make sure they’re alone, before catching Ian off guard, tugging him into the house, and kissing him up against the other side of the door. 

Ian sighs against his mouth, walking them backwards and blindly trying to find the stairs. Ian chuckles when Mickey almost misses a step while trying to kiss him at the same time, and gives up, tugging Ian up the stairs and to their bedroom again. 

“I’m sorry, for overreacting, alright? I’m sorry--”

“Sshh”, Ian shakes his head, goes in to kiss him again. Mickey feels Ian’s tongue against his lips, moans gently at the contact. He wraps his arms around Ian’s neck, and Ian’s hands tug off Mickey’s jacket, tossing it to the floor. He finds the hem of his shirt next, tugs it over his head. Ian’s hands splay across Mickey’s back and the icy feeling of them causes Mickey to gasp into his mouth. 

“Sorry, sorry”, Ian mutters. Mickey shakes his head as if to say “it’s okay”, then tugs off Ian’s jacket next, then his shirt. 

“I love you, I’m so sorry. I don’t wanna fight anymore”, Ian whispers as Mickey’s lips attach to Ian’s throat. 

“Shut up, and make love to me”, Mickey whispers. Ian cups his face again, gently shoves him onto their bed, fumbles with his belt buckle which makes Mickey chuckle. He undoes Ian’s after his are thrown to the floor, and hooks his leg around Ian’s waist, tugging his body down to feel their clothed centers rub against each other. 

“Gotta be quiet”, Ian whispers into his mouth. Mickey groans, kisses the corner of Ian’s lips.

“Fuck, I forgot”, he says, remembering Debbie and Franny were asleep in the room 6 feet away from them. 

“Hasn’t ever stopped us before”, Ian smirks, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to Mickey’s stomach. Mickey chuckles, then presses his heels to Ian’s hips to push his boxers down his legs. Ian smiles at him, pressing his lips to his again. Mickey’s feet somehow get Ian’s boxers to his calves, and Ian becomes impatient, reaching down to tug them down and kick them off the rest of the way. 

“I want you always”, Ian whispers, pressing his lips to Mickey’s, their tongues brushing gently. Ian tucks his fingers into Mickey’s boxers next, tugging them from his body and throwing them to the floor. Ian places open-mouthed kisses to Mickey’s thighs, his hips, his legs, listening to the way his breathing picks up and the way he says Ian’s name. 

“Want you to want me too”, Ian nips at the skin of Mickey’s hipbone, falling into his hand caressing his face.

“I do,  _ fuck... _ I want you, too”. 

“We made a promise to each other”, Ian reaches for the lube on the nightstand, dipping his fingers into the bottle.

“I love you, so much”, Mickey says, spreading his legs to allow Ian to press his fingers against him. 

“Say it again”, Ian moans, curling his fingers against Mickey’s entrance. Mickey cries out and Ian shushes him with his mouth. 

“Say it again, Mick”, Ian repeats, curling his fingers slowly. 

“ _ Fuck,  _ I  _ love  _ you”.

“ _ Fuck,  _ you’re my everything”, Ian says, removing his fingers from his husband to position himself over him. 

“I love you,  _ God”,  _ Ian presses into Mickey and the whole world feels as if it’s stopped. Mickey looks up to see Ian staring down at him, his eyes bright, his lips parted and slightly reddened, his cheeks flushed. Mickey reaches up to run his thumb over Ian’s lips, never breaking eye contact. 

“What am I gonna do with you?”, Mickey whispers; Ian still hasn’t moved, just stays hovering above him. 

“Keep me, I hope”.

Mickey watches Ian’s eyebrows furrow, then starts to move his hips slowly. Mickey closes his eyes, runs his thumb against Ian’s cheek. 

“You’ve always been mine, you know that right?”

Ian’s hips roll slowly into Mickey’s, his skin hot and smooth beneath his as he presses his cheek against Ian’s. 

“I….fuck,  _ Mick _ ”, Ian breathes against his skin, his hips picking up the pace gently.

They don’t talk again for some time; Ian continues to make love to Mickey until his hips are stuttering and Mickey’s coming shortly after, Ian following him a moment later. 

“Shit”, Mickey breathes, pressing his lips into Ian’s temple, gently tugging his hair between his fingers. Ian lays on top of him for some time, waiting for their heart rates to die down again, Mickey’s fingers carding through Ian’s hair. Ian’s fingers are drawing small circles into Mickey’s arm and he’s staring at the wall by the window. 

“You okay?”, Mickey finally breaks the silence, pressing his nose into Ian’s hair. 

“Mhm”.

“No more fighting. Or assuming things. Or any of that shit. Yeah?”

Ian turns his head, laying his chin on Mickey’s chest. 

“I’m sorry I screamed at you”, Ian says, bringing his left hand up to cup Mickey’s face. The cold metal of Ian’s wedding ring against his skin makes Mickey’s stomach flutter, and he closes his eyes.

“Me too. And thinking you were cheating on me….that was….fucking stupid”.

“I would never do that to you, I want you to know that”. 

“I know….”

“I love you, okay? I wish….I wish I could….express that in other ways. Other ways that aren’t us having sex all the time”.

Mickey snorts, runs his hand over the back of Ian’s.

“What, you don’t like the sex anymore?” 

“No, that’s not what I meant, shut up”, Ian lays his forehead against Mickey’s chest and Mickey chuckles.

“You know you do show me you love me in other ways, whether you know it or not”, 

“Wish I did it more often”.

Ian draws different shapes in Mickey’s skin as Mickey keeps his hand in Ian’s hair, gently brushing through the soft strands with his fingers. 

“Said we’ve been married for a year today, huh?”, Mickey whispers, dragging his hand from Ian’s hair to his neck.

“Mhm”.

“And we spent it fighting”.

“Yeah….”

“Can I make it up to you tomorrow?”

Ian smiles, Mickey feels it against his chest. Ian lifts his head again, and Mickey pokes his nose with his index finger. Ian giggles softly at the gesture.

“We work tomorrow, but afterwards?”

“‘Course. Whatever you want”.

“Mick--”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m making you dinner tomorrow night, there’s not gonna be an argument about it”, Mickey interjects, and Ian chuckles, ending that conversation. 

Ian is still lying on top of Mickey for another hour before he finally removes himself from his body. Mickey doesn’t like that very much though; he grabs at Ian’s arm, bringing him back down to him to kiss him gently, smiling against his mouth. Ian pushes Mickey’s hair off his forehead as he does, a chuckle emitting from his husband.

When Ian pulls away from him again, his eyes flicker over Mickey’s face, to his eyes, his lips, his nose, the freckles littering his cheeks, much like Ian’s on his own face. He thinks Mickey’s are prettier than his though. 

“I ever tell you how beautiful you are?”

“More often than necessary”, Mickey teases, giving Ian one last peck before pushing Ian’s naked body down on the bed this time. Mickey hovers over him, looking at his face this time; the freckles littering Ian’s eyelids and cheeks, right underneath his eyes, were always his favorite. Mickey absentmindedly feathers his lips across them, causing Ian’s eyes to fall closed and a light hum to leave his lips. 

“You’re beautiful too, ya know”, Mickey whispers, laying his chin on Ian’s chest. Ian smiles at him for awhile, and finally feels himself on the verge of sleep. Mickey presses a gentle kiss to his forehead, taking a blanket from the floor and covering their naked bodies with it. Ian snuggles closer to Mickey, and he smiles, holding him under the blanket and staring out the window for a bit, watching the snow fall some more. Ian mumbles, “love you, okay?”, and Mickey feels his chest ignite in the best way. He kisses Ian’s forehead again, mutters “love you more”, against his skin before finally falling asleep with Ian’s head on his chest.


End file.
